


A Man of Value (The Values of Being a Knight Remix)

by Cookie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie/pseuds/Cookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot is puzzled by Arthur's questions. Why is he so keen to know why Lancelot believes Merlin to be brave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man of Value (The Values of Being a Knight Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silence_since_silence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Values of Being a Knight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319902) by [silence_since_silence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/pseuds/silence_since_silence). 



> Dear weatherfeather - You asked for a remix that used someone else's point of view and when I read through your work, this one just leapt out at me. Lancelot was the obvious choice and it gave me a lovely opportunity to explore his character a little. I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Lancelot thinks little of it the first time Arthur speaks, turning aside the seemingly off-hand comment from his prince about Merlin’s bravery.

They’re making their way towards Camelot, moving steadily and carefully through the forest, avoiding any possible sign of either habitation or an enemy patrol. Lancelot is surprised but not unduly concerned when Arthur breaks the silence, though he keeps his voice low.

“Merlin is no knight, but he’s brave enough to join this battle.”

“Merlin will always follow you, sire." Lancelot, newly-minted knight that he is, is careful in his words. 

Arthur grunts and moves forward to the head of their short line, exchanging a brief comment with Leon before taking point himself. Lancelot feels a little puzzled but then it slips from his mind as Merlin himself arrives alongside, his cheerful grin raising Lancelot’s spirits as he tries not to think of the woman he’s left behind; the woman his prince loves, too.

They stop for a brief lunch, eating the small repast and Lancelot is amused at the way Merlin doles it out so carefully, ensuring everyone has an equal share and how he ignores Arthur’s moue of discontent at the short rations. Then, as he watches, he sees Merlin slip a little of his own ration onto Arthur’s pile, and smiles as Arthur immediately returns it.

When they set off again, Arthur is beside him and they both watch as Merlin disappears off to the side, knowing he is foraging to gather whatever he can find to supplement their meagre supplies. 

Arthur’s eyes are on the spot where Merlin left them and Lancelot is surprised at the concern he can see there.

“Merlin knows what he’s doing,” Lancelot offers, and then wonders if he should have said anything at all as Arthur flushes and his eyes dart away.

“Of course he does,” Arthur is doing his best to sound nonchalant. “You think he’s brave, don’t you?”

Lancelot is a simple man, he knows this about himself and is content with it. Honesty usually serves him best and because he dislikes lying so much he is bad at it. He doesn’t like artifice. 

“He’s the bravest man I know.” 

They’re interrupted as Merlin crosses the path in front of them and heads off to the other side. Lancelot accepts the distraction gladly, moving until the bulk of Percival is between them and blocks any possibility of private conversation. Percival glances at him and raises his eyebrows but makes no comment and Lancelot is grateful for his constraint. 

Throughout the afternoon, Lancelot watches Arthur watch Merlin, smiling to himself when Arthur finally grabs Merlin as he passes through the line once more.

“We’re getting too close now for you to be gadding about,” Arthur says. Merlin looks as if he’s going to object and Lancelot wonders what the expression on Arthur’s face is like, when Merlin’s mouth snaps shut and, with a sweet smile, he slips into the line in front of Arthur. Arthur reaches out then, and presses a hand to Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin rewards him with another smile. Lancelot tries to meet his eye before he turns away, but it seems no-one other than Arthur can catch his attention.

That gives Lancelot something to think about as they make their way onward.

By evening, they’ve reached the edge of the forest and Camelot is a tantalising presence before them. Their bright capes and mail are bundled out of sight as they try to blend into the landscape as much as possible. Gwaine is quietly teasing Merlin as he pulls together everything he’s gathered through the day and, along with their supplies, tries to eke out a supper for them all, as well as retain something to provide a start to the following day. 

Gwaine is attempting to steal an apple, and Merlin is laughing as he fends him off. Lancelot stands on the edge of the clearing and grins at their antics, but he keeps half his attention on Arthur. 

He’s not surprised when it’s Arthur who breaks up their play, sending Gwaine off on some obviously made up errand. Merlin looks a little bemused by the mocking bow and outrageous wink Gwaine offers Arthur as he cedes the field, but it offers Lancelot more to consider. He finally puts a name to Arthur’s behaviour, and once he recognises the jealousy, so much more falls into place. There is pain at the heart of him when he thinks of Gwen, always present in his thoughts, and wonders what this will mean for all of them.

Arthur has watched Gwaine leave, barely able to hide his satisfaction, and clearly now feels he can move his attention from Merlin. He approaches Lancelot and perches himself on a precarious tree stump. Lancelot glances warily down at him.

“Are you clear on your role tomorrow?” Arthur asks.

“Yes, Sire. We’ll stop the warning bell to give you as much time as possible.”

“You’re sure Merlin is up to the job?” 

He hasn’t lowered his voice and Lancelot sees Merlin’s flinch, and the brief hurt glance he throws at Arthur. When he turns back to his task, his mouth has turned down.

Lancelot wonders why he would say such a thing. “Merlin is perfectly capable,” he asserts, and sees something in Arthur’s eyes that makes him wonder. For all Arthur’s nonchalance, beyond his pushing and prodding, he is seeking answers. Merlin’s own expression has cleared, and Lancelot knows he has reached the same understanding. Greatly daring, Lancelot adds, “You know Merlin’s worth, Sire, I know you do.”

There is a moment of stillness, when the earth seems to fall into silence and everything slows and stops. Arthur and Merlin are staring at one another, their colour high and breathing quick.

“Yes,” says Arthur, his voice pitched so only Lancelot and Merlin could hear, “I know his worth, but sometimes I wonder if there is even more I do not know.”

He turns away then, leaving Lancelot concerned and Merlin white-faced and shaking.

“What does he mean?” Merlin asks, urgently.

Lancelot has no answer to give him, or at least, none that might provide comfort.

**

Lancelot thinks he’ll never forget the sound of Morgana’s screams as she brought the tower walls down around them. Bleeding, in pain and confused, he had been only half aware of the fight, but never had he been so glad to see Gaius in his life. Now, slumped outside the tower room, with both Gaius and Merlin fussing over his wound, it’s all he can do to stay awake.

Whatever state he’s in, he can’t miss Arthur striding towards them, sword still in his hand, with Gwaine and Leon close behind.

“What in the name of the Gods happened to the two of you,” he snaps as he stops by them, staring down with an expression that mirrors a poorly hidden mix of anger and concern. “You had one job to do –“

Merlin scowls up at Arthur from where he’s hovering over Lancelot. “We saw Morgause and followed her. It seemed a fair chance she was heading to wherever the cup was held. Made sense to try and get to it as soon as we could.”

Arthur has taken more notice of them now, and drops to one knee to look closely at Lancelot. “You’re injured.”

Lancelot speaks quickly, doing his best to drown Merlin’s comment about stating the bloody obvious, “’Tis nothing, Sire, just a scratch.”

“Look after him, Gaius,” Arthur orders. “Merlin, I need you with me.” He leaves without another word and, after offering an apologetic glance that includes himself, Gaius and the two knights, Merlin follows.

Gwaine chuckles, “The Gods know what’s going to happen when the two of them finally work out what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” Leon asks, and his honest features are puzzled enough that Lancelot laughs along with Gwaine and then groans in pain.

“Oh, come on man, you can’t have missed it, surely?” Gwaine shakes his head.

Leon’s expression becomes less puzzled and more concerned. “Arthur and Merlin? What about Guinevere?”

There’s an awkward pause and it’s down to Lancelot to break it. “They have not realised what’s between them. I know Arthur believes himself in love with Gwen, but perhaps that’s because he thinks that’s all he can or should have. Like Merlin, Gwen isn’t of noble blood, but at least she could bear him an heir.”

In the end, it was a blunter appraisal than he intended, and he understands his own bitter hurt has surfaced in the words and the delivery. Leon still looks puzzled but Gwaine, so often insouciant and uncaring on the surface, regards him with sympathy.

“You know what you need to do?” There is challenge in Gwaine’s voice and Lancelot isn’t too sure what he’s expecting. Gwaine reaches out as if he’s about to clout him on the shoulder, but obviously recalls he’s injured and manages to turn it into an awkward pat. “Fight for her, man.”

His own inner conflict comes to the fore, and it’s Gaius, who’s been tending to him quietly all the while, who cuts through the suddenly thick atmosphere. He speaks quietly but with force, and Lancelot is suddenly convinced his friends have discussed this at some length already.

“The idea of marrying into Royalty can be an attractive one, especially when others show no inclination to continue their suit.”

“Guinevere knows of my feelings for her.” The pain of his wound is making him woozy, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of speaking those words aloud. “How can I go against the wishes of my prince?” His voice sounds hoarse to his own ears.

“Gods, you’re a noble idiot,” Gwaine seems to have lost his patience. “Arthur loves Merlin and the only people who don’t realise that are Arthur and Merlin.” There’s a raw edge of pain in Gwaine’s voice and Lancelot doesn’t dare to look up to see his face. He’s aware of movement, though, and thinks Leon has set a hand to Gwaine’s shoulder.

“Ah, make your own decisions, I’ve had enough of all the damn pining. I’m going to find Elyan and head for the Sun.” With that, he stomps off, still muttering.

Gaius chuckles gently and Lancelot hears the fondness in it, knowing Gaius has a soft spot for Gwaine. 

“You’d better go after him, Leon, before he gets himself into trouble his first week as a knight of Camelot.”

Leon laughs aloud. “I’ll do that,” he agrees, “and you can talk some sense into Lancelot.”

Lancelot looks up and sees understanding and perhaps some of Gwaine’s exasperation, too. He nods his head in a rueful acknowledgement, and Leon throws him a casual salute as he takes his leave.

Gaius is busying himself packing up his gear, and Lancelot takes a careful breath, happy Gaius’ special poultice seems to have numbed the pain for the time being.

“It strikes me,” Gaius’ tone is conversational, “that neither you nor Arthur have done the young woman the courtesy of finding out what _she_ wants. You’re busy determining her future without taking her wishes into account. Perhaps that’s the first thing you should consider.”

It was as if someone has thrown ice cold water over him. Gaius is right. Every decision has been his decision.

“Gaius,’ he says, and then is lost for words.

“Don’t worry, lad.” There is comfort aplenty in Gaius’ voice now. “There’s still time to put it right. Someone will have to go and fetch Guinevere. You’ll be fit enough to go along and there will be time for you to find out what it is she wants. You never know – she might not want either of you.”

Lancelot closes his eyes for a moment, and then accepts Gaius’ help to get to his feet. “She might decide she wants Merlin,” he says, “and then what a pickle we’ll be in.”

Gaius' laughter is loud and warm.

Lancelot grins in return, suddenly feeling happier than he has for many months.

**

Gaius insists Lancelot spends the night in his room, checking occasionally to ensure no infection sets in. After a penetrating look, Gaius leaves him to his thoughts. Lancelot is grateful for his care, and as grateful for the time it affords; time for him to think on the views of his friends and on his own actions. And Merlin: Merlin who follows Arthur and protects him, believes in him and supports him without expecting anything in return. He thinks, too, of Arthur’s jealousy and how proprietary he is with Merlin, wanting all of his attention – just as a lover might. Now he’s acknowledged it and heard his own thoughts mirrored by others, it is all too clear. Arthur and Merlin belong together, and while Arthur may truly love Guinevere, it could never be the type of love she needs. Guinevere should come first, and with Arthur it’s obvious that Camelot will always take precedence, and now Lancelot can see how Merlin understands that and accepts it in a way Guinevere never will and never could. 

He dozes, well-satisfied with his decisions, until the door opens and Arthur himself walks through. Lancelot isn’t the least surprised to see Merlin enter at his heels. 

“Lancelot.” 

Arthur is full of cheer and bonhomie, but Lancelot wonders at the worried look Merlin casts at him and takes closer attention. There are signs of strain in Arthur’s face, a pallor and a grief that shakes him. He opens his mouth to express his concerns, catches Merlin’s warning shake of the head and finds other words.

“Sire, it is good of you to take the time to visit.”

Merlin relaxes and Arthur perches himself on a low stool.

“We’ve found no trace of Morgana or Morgause,” Arthur says. “As soon as I can settle the king, I’ll fetch Guinevere.”

Lancelot sees his chance. “Gaius says I’ll be well enough to ride. If you’ll allow me, Sire, I’ll do it.” He makes sure he meets Arthur’s eyes then, and wonders at how much his own expression is giving away, when he sees Merlin’s eyebrows rise.

Arthur’s chin goes up and there is a new tension within him. It only lasts a moment, as he turns his head slightly to where Merlin is standing, tense and silent, before he relaxes and chuckles, surprising both of his companions.

“Ah, Sir Lancelot, yes, that might be for the best, I suppose.”

Arthur looks between them and asks suddenly. “Will either of you ever tell me the truth about what happened with the cup of life?”

His question comes out of the blue and Lancelot sees the way Merlin starts and flushes. Arthur is staring at him, too, his expression troubled. The silence lengthens and it’s only when Arthur sighs that Merlin seems to find his voice.

“There are things I want to tell you, Arthur,” he stops there and looks at Lancelot, an agonising indecision clear to both of them.

“You know about this, Lancelot, don’t you?” 

There is an underlying jealousy in Arthur’s tone and while Lancelot won’t give up Merlin’s secret, at least he can mitigate that. He hopes.

“My knowledge was come by accidently.”

“There is something to know, then.”

Merlin suddenly seems to be a different person, more his own man than Arthur’s shadow as he steps forward.

“Yes,” he says, and then falters.

Arthur seems to forget Lancelot for the moment as he stares at Merlin, and there is hope and fear in equal measure. Lancelot settles back against the pillows to watch how this might unfold. The atmosphere between the two men is charged, and Lancelot draws in a sharp breath as Merlin extends his hand, and then relaxes when he sees it’s an entreaty rather than an admission.

His own reaction, however, has Arthur’s head tilting slightly in his direction, even though his focus does not waver. Lancelot can’t see his expression fully but can see Merlin, watching as terror and longing and pride do battle there.

Arthur stands and sets his hands on Merlin’s shoulders.

“You will tell me when you’re ready, Merlin.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes still fixed on Merlin. “Lancelot says you’re the bravest man he knows. That’s quite a statement from one of the bravest and most noble men _I_ know. Thank you both.” He leans forward then and brushes his lips across Merlin’s forehead. Slightly flushed and clearing his throat, he releases his hold and turns, pressing a surprisingly gentle hand to Lancelot’s shoulder, before muttering something about other duties and vanishing through the door, leaving Lancelot and Merlin to gape at one another.

**

Lancelot was glad he hasn’t made Gaius a liar, as he mounts carefully and, in company with Gwaine, Percival and Elyan, gets ready to take his leave of Camelot once more. At least this time they know there will be no difficulty returning. Arthur and Merlin are among the mix of horses and men as they ready themselves to leave. There is an odd fragility in Arthur, and Lancelot sees the way Merlin crosses his path from time to time, as he manages a fine line between support and an overt concern that would no doubt annoy Arthur. The gossip hasn't taken long to travel around the castle and beyond. The King is not doing well. 

At last, they wheel the horses around, the white mare Arthur has sent for Guinevere dancing and jibbing at being led but as they start to move she settles down. It’s a circumspect group that leaves the courtyard and wends its way through the town. Lancelot takes the time to grin at Merlin and raise his hand in farewell before he loses sight of him in the crowd.

The townspeople turn smiling faces to them as they pass, pausing in the business of rebuilding and mending the damage Morgana and her forces have wrought. Lancelot knows a moment of grief at the thought of the proud, kind woman he had known through Gwen’s words. The Morgana Gwen had described would never have unleashed such disaster on her people. He's distracted from his melancholy thoughts as some of the women throw flowers, and Gwaine plays the gallant, catching a few and bowing in response.

Lancelot hears Leon snort, and sees Elyan and Percival attempting to hide their amusement. He grins at Gwaine and shakes his head in mock admonishment, and then they’re clattering out across the bridge and leaving the town behind them.

**

As they near the castle, Lancelot has to work hard to calm his nerves, feeling his pulse speed up as he sights the slight figure dash out of the building and run down the hill towards them.

“Is everyone well? Did Gaius go to Camelot? Where’s Arthur. Lancelot – you’re hurt.” She stops alongside his horse and gazes up at him and in that moment he understands truly what a fool he’s been. The love in her eyes is so clear, so beautifully clear.

“Guinevere.” It’s all he can say, but her cheeks flush and her eyes drop for a moment before they meet his again, and she’s fearless. Lancelot feels his mouth widen into a smile.

Gwaine’s exaggerated coughing interrupts their moment of understanding and Lancelot looks up to find the others have surrounded them and are openly laughing at them. He shrugs helplessly and accepts Guinevere’s help in dismounting as graciously as he’s able, ignoring Gwaine’s comments.

They are to spend the night at the castle and return to Camelot the following day so there’s work aplenty to get themselves settled. Leon and Percival spend some time looking at the round table as Arthur wants it transported to Camelot. When Elyan and Gwaine join the discussion, in an entirely unsubtle way, Lancelot offers his hand to Guinevere and leads her out onto into the sunshine.

They walk in silence for a few moments before Lancelot finds the words he needs.

“I’m sorry, Guinevere.”

She turns to face him then, wary and concerned, but she waits to let him speak and he wonders at how attuned to him she is.

“I should never have left you. I should never have made a decision on your behalf. I’m doing now what I should have done then. I’m asking you to make your choice. If you love Prince Arthur and he is the one you want, then I will stand aside. But Guinevere, you know I love you. If you choose me, then I’ll spend the rest of my days making you happy. My oath on it.”

She’s turned her head aside so he can’t see her expression and there is an agony of time that feels like forever before she turns to face him once more. He draws in a sharp breath.

Gwen’s eyes are wet, yet her smile is like the sunlight, and she launches herself into his arms. Joy bubbles through him as their mouths fuse together in the sweetest caress he’s ever known.

**

When they ride into the courtyard, Merlin and Arthur are waiting for them. They’re sitting in a companionable silence on the steps and Lancelot smiles at the picture they make, so comfortable together. They rise as the horses stop and Arthur steps forward, reaching up to lift Guinevere down and into his arms. There is something of a hiatus as the other knights look anxiously between Arthur and Lancelot, between Guinevere and Merlin. Lancelot knows a moment of dismay, dismounting and attempting not to show his disquiet, but then Arthur releases Gwen, stepping to the side and he retains one of her hands. He offers a showy bow, and she returns a curtsey, her eyes laughing at him. Then Arthur turns her and his own expression is content as he presents her hand to him.

Lancelot bows and accepts it, squeezing Gwen’s fingers and smiling at Arthur.

Arthur’s grin is boyish as he shrugs and then turns away to talk to Percival.

Lancelot looks across to Merlin and sees him watching Arthur, his eyes soft. Arthur glances up and Lancelot sees the look they exchange, the warmth and the regard.

Merlin looks at Lancelot then, and he smiles. 

Lancelot inclines his head at the bravest and truest soul he knows.

Good luck to us all, he thinks, and may we all be happy in our choices.

Fin


End file.
